


Falling for Pride (discontinued)

by Nievia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: But not all fluff, Cuties, Dread Wolf, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, Kissing, Nerds in Love, Religion, Romance, So yeah, elven pantheon - Freeform, maker, rogue - Freeform, this actually has a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nievia/pseuds/Nievia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was the Inquisitor, he couldn’t possibly let himself fall for her. She was Dalish, she would never be able to love a trickster wolf, not after what they had told her. But he had let himself stray too far, and she had taken him into her heart without question. Pheris Lavellan had no idea just how much she had fallen for Pride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is my new fic, I hope you guys like it! The romance is coming up and I'm so excited to start writing this! I've had ideas in my head for forever. If you have any comments or constructive criticism or just wanna say hi, go right ahead. I love hearing feedback. Enjoy loves!  
> If you want sneak peeks, want to get to know me, or just want to see what else I'm up to, here is my tumblr:  
> theironcolemance.tumblr.com  
> PS: I know it says chapter 1/1 but this is NOT a oneshot so... sorry if you thought so!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited and changed! (some minor things, save for Swift's name change)

Pheris Lavellan had finally made it to the Conclave. She knew it was going to be big, but people stretched as far as the eye could see and there were still more coming. Most were mages and Templars who filed in from every entrance and seemed to naturally divide themselves, arguing over their self-made line. Pheris, being a Dalish rogue, felt out of place among the primarily human group and kept to the quiet shadows as she listened in on conversations around her. Her Keeper sent her along with her betrothed, Swift, to find out what the conclusion of the Conclave would be. Of course, being among so many people who hated each other made it difficult to hear, Pheris and Swift had gotten separated. She didn't mind; he could take care of himself. She peered through the dense crowds, eyes following priests as they moved in and out of where she assumed the Divine was currently residing. She continued to watch and listen, occasionally catching a glimpse of Swift's eyes glittering over a shoulder or winking just before disappearing, causing a small laugh or smile to slip out of Pheris' outwardly dull facade. It was then, after seeing her betrothed in the sea of people for the third time, that she realized that there were no more priests scurrying about and the overlarge doors to the Divine were closed. Pheris nudged past people – humans, elves, even a handful of qunari – as she made her way to the doors. She glanced back before opening them, gazing at Swift and nodding before slipping into the room. That’s when she heard him.

“Now is the hour of our victory,” 

His voice was commanding, booming off of the walls. Pheris crept closer, and leaned against the door that led into the large room.

“Why are you doing this? You of all people…” A woman’s voice asked.

Pheris held her breath as she prepared to peek around the corner, “Keep the sacrifice still.” The voice came again. She heard the whir of magic before the Divine called out.

“Someone, help me!”

Pheris wasn’t much for politics or the Maker, but she shoved the door open anyway, eyes searching for the woman crying out for help. She was wrinkled with age, but still beautiful in her Chantry robes (though if she was honest with herself she would have had to stifle a laugh at the hat covering her head if she wasn’t in immediate danger). But something was off. The Divine was floating, arms splayed out so she took on the form of a martyr pinned to a cross. Worse still, there were mages all around her, hands extended as they kept her still. Their leader, however, was the one who nearly made her take a step back. His hands were long, deformed, and ended in claws. His was monstrously tall, but his face, by the Pantheon, that's what gave the elf such hesitation. His lips were uneven, pulled back by red crystals, scars marred his skin, which stretched oddly over his skull. There was sparse hair under the miniscule hood he wore, and his eyes were a dull brown, turning to her as he sneered at her, obviously not to be bothered with her little distraction. He was holding up a glowing green orb to the Divine, face pulled back in disgust as it pulsed and glowed in his hand.

“What’s going on here?!” She shouted.

The Divine turned her eyes to Lavellan, tendrils of green magic pulling at her form. She twisted her body to face the rogue before swinging her arm and slapping the orb out of the darkspawn’s hand. Out of instinct (or was it stupidity? Pheris didn't know), the elvhen woman reached out and caught it, and as her hand burned and pain shot right into her soul, she saw him running at her. His eyes were wide as he sauntered toward her. He extended his hand to take the orb when a blinding green light flashed, knocking him backwards. She screamed, her head thrown back as the magic pulsed around and over her, and then the world around Pheris Lavellan faded as she prayed to Falon’Din that this wasn’t the end.

***

She woke up some time later to a darkened,, nightmarish world and a deep, agonizing pain in her left hand. She groaned as she rolled onto her side, and then, realizing she was no longer in the Conclave trading glances with her lover and spying for her Keeper, scrambled onto her feet. Her hand throbbed and she glanced down to inspect it, holding it out in front of her. Her glove had disappeared, likely disintegrated from what seemed to be the thing causing her so much pain. And there it was. A mark glowing green, pulsing and eating away at her flesh every second she stood there gawking. The green tugged at something on the back of her mind. She had seen magic like this before but she couldn’t recall where. She didn’t have time to think on it as loud, terrible shrieks sounded behind her. Turning, she saw the stuff only out of nightmares. Giant black spiders with spikes jagged enough to slice an elf open, and the look in their many eyes told her they were hungry. Lavellan, having lost her weapons somewhere in this strange and new world, only had one choice, and that choice was scrambling up the hill behind her.

Rocks scraped at her skin, fingernails tore off, and the Mark pulsed, sending waves of dizzying pain and nausea through her, but it was either that or the spiders. And then there was a light that broke through the growing darkness in her vision, a figure of a woman bathed in energy and reaching out for her. Pheris gasped, reaching out with her bleeding hands, stretching and pushing herself to the woman’s glowing fingers. The woman, tall and regal enough to be Andruil herself, caught her wrist and yanked her up, and without so much as a whisper of explanation, pushed her through a sickly green rift. Pheris felt a rush of air, a tingling, and a sharp stab in her hand as she collapsed onto the ground. She wanted to lift her head when she heard the footsteps and clanking armor, wanted to call out for Swift, but just as the light had driven away the spots in her eyes, the dark crept back in and found its home. She only had one moment to pray to Falon’Din (a prayer sounding familiar to her tired mind, a prayer she had perhaps said before) to spare her before closing her eyes and letting go.

***

Pheris could only manage a groan as her eyelids fluttered open to see blue eyes from the heavens and a gentle mouth, curved in concentration, greet her. “Rest,” he said, his angular jaw moving as he spoke (a lilting, beautiful accent she had never heard before), his hands sliding over the part of her arm she was sure was disintegrating. “It is not time for you to wake up, lethallan.” And for a moment she believed that the Friend of the Dead was there to guide her into the afterlife, that he had answered her prayers to bring her peace. She let her eyes drift closed again, never considering that she might be under the watchful eyes of the Dread Wolf himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited! (mostly minor things, yet again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves! I know I missed the last update (and you aren't alone, I missed one for The Assassin's Mark as well) but I was on vacation for a week so I decided to work extra hard on well... not working! Anyways, I really enjoyed writing this chapter (I even made my brother listen to me read it out loud so I could proofread and get some feedback) and editing it. You should see all the scribbles I have in my notebook! But anyways, I typed it up and cleaned it up a bit, but I'm sure it isn't perfect, so if you want to leave comments or constructive criticism, go right ahead! Updates will continue as usual from this point on (unless something happens).  
> If you're interested in one-shots I write, they're all on my tumblr account here: theironcolemance.tumblr.com  
> Again, sorry for the delay, but I hope you like this chapter! I promise Solas will be in the next one. I love you guys, and enjoy!

The first thing Pheris noted when she woke up (again) was the crick in her neck. She groaned, lifting her hands to rub away the sore feeling only to find heavy shackles on her wrists and guards pointing swords at her throat. What..? She thought, before a soft groan came out of her lips as her left hand throbbed and burned, a green glowing mark catching her attention. Where am I? Where is Swift? She could only pray he was safe, that he hadn’t been caught as she had. Then the heavy doors in front of her opened, causing her to squint into the light as two women approached. One wore a hood, her eyes glinting dangerously from the shadows she created for herself and Pheris found that she was resisting the urge to shudder. The other looked more brash, her armor holding an odd symbol (a blade and a flaming eye), her sword hung on her hip, and the scars on her pretty face made her look all the more intimidating. Pheris’ eyebrows knitted together at examining the two shemlen before the armored one strode towards her.

“Everyone at the Conclave is dead, including the Divine. You better have a good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you.” She spat, her Orlesian accent thick. The woman gripped Pheris’ shackles lifting them up to shove the Mark in her face once it was clear by Pheris’ stuttering that she did not, indeed, have any good reason as to why she should remain alive. “Explain this!” She growled, slamming the elf’s arms back into her lap and causing her whole body to rock with the force.

Pheris blinked, trying to recall how exactly she could explain that, but all she could conjure was darkness. “I… can’t!” She breathed.

The woman in front of her spluttered, “What do you mean you can’t? You were there, for Maker’s sake!”

Pheris flinched as the woman grabbed the front of her shirt, pulling her bottom off of the stone floor to bring her closer. She could feel her heart beating in her throat, almost like it was crawling out of her in an attempt to escape. She opened her mouth, trying to stutter out an excuse, a story, anything that could possibly save her, but nothing came.

“You’re lying!” The woman hissed, raising a hand to hit her.

Pheris held the warrior’s gaze as the other woman stepped into the light, the metal symbol (the same symbol the Orlesian had) in the middle of the leather chest piece she wore glittering. Pheris caught a flash of green eyes and short red hair as the hooded woman placed a hand on the warrior’s shoulder, forcing her to release Pheris with a clang of metal on stone.

“We need her, Cassandra.” She said, her accent lilting, but not as thick as Cassandra’s. The warrior took a deep breath as the red haired woman brushed past her to gaze down at Pheris. “Do you remember what happened? Do you know where the Divine is?”  
Inhaling shakily, Pheris stared down at the Mark, clenching her fist. “I remember… running. It was dark, so dark. But then there was a – a woman! She grabbed my hand, I think…” she scrunched her eyebrows and bit her bottom lip, gazing up at the rogue who turned to Cassandra, who pulled her to the door.

“Leliana, go to the forward camp.” Cassandra paused to look at the elf.

“I don’t understand…” Pheris mumbled, trying to fill in the holes in her memories.  
Leliana hesitated, but gave in once Cassandra promised to meet her at the camp and assured her that the prisoner would be taken care of (Pheris prayed to Falon’din that the warrior didn’t mean what she thought she meant). With a bow, Leliana was gone, disappearing through the door followed by two guards. The doors shut behind her.

Pheris opened her mouth, wanting to ask if anyone else had survived – if Swift had survived – but before the first word could leave her lips, she was cut off by a shock of pain from her hand. She cried out, squeezing her fingers around the Mark in an attempt to ease the burning from her aching flesh. When it subsided, her breath came out in soft pants and she found herself face-to-face with Cassandra. The woman was taking off the metal shackles and replacing them with firmly knotted rope.

“The Mark is spreading, and it is killing you.” She said, pulling the rope to make sure it was secure around Pheris’ wrists.

“Is that supposed to comfort me?” Pheris grumbled. Cassandra didn’t reply, and the two women were silent for a moment before the warrior stood to her full height, gazing down at her prisoner. “What did happen?” Pheris asked.

Cassandra shifted her weight from one foot to the other before reaching down and helping the Dalish to her feet. “It is easier if I show you.” She replied.

As Cassandra led her through an old hallway and up a short flight of stairs, Pheris discovered that she was within a Chantry. The tapestries were red and gold with the likeness of Andraste stitched into them, the scent of burning candles smoothed over her, and the dim lighting was almost comforting. The fear and anger with which the occupants of the building regarded her… less so. When the double doors leading outside opened, Pheris had to shield her eyes from the blinding white snow reflecting the rays of the sun directly at her. But then she saw it; the hole in the sky. “What is that?” She gaped, green-purple eyes widening as they adjusted to the new light.

Cassandra – who had moved a small distance in front of the elf – turned her head to regard her. “We call it the Breach,” she paused, “It isn’t the only such rift – only the biggest.” She nodded towards Pheris’ han, “Whatever magic is on your hand – in that Mark – is the same magic that caused the Breach.”

The rift in the sky pulsed and Pheris cried out, her left hand lifting as if being pulled towards it as she fell to her knees into the cold snow with a shudder She could feel the Mark spread across her skin, burning it as if her skin was being replaced with the very magic that was tearing it apart.  
Sighing, Cassandra moved toward the Dalish elf, “The pulses are coming faster, and that Mark is spreading. You are the only one who even has a chance at closing the Breach.” She said.

Pheris’ breathing evened out as she lifted her head to look at the Orlesian through the white strands of hair falling in her eyes. “You still think I did this? To myself?” She asked.

“Not on purpose.” Cassandra said, placing a hand on the hilt of her sword, “You are our only suspect, the only survivor of the Conclave.”

Pheris swallowed. So they haven't found him… “Not that you know of, you mean.” She replied, clenching her fists. Swift was smart – he would have run, would have survived, and most certainly would be out looking for her now. He would find her and it would all be okay. “Are you sure that this… Mark will seal the Breach?”

“Right now, we aren’t sure of anything, but you are our only chance.” Cassandra replied.

Pheris looked down at her hand, her eyes following the Vallaslin there, the ones that connected to Swift's when the held hands broken up by the Mark. She turned her gaze back to Cassandra.

"I’ll help,” she said.

Cassandra blinked, “What?”

Pheris nodded, “Any way I can.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! New chapter is up! Sorry it took so long, I was also editing previous chapters (Zathriel's name has changed to Swift, just so you know. Don't worry, it works into my plans), doing Handers week (Romance, the Anders Way is what it's called, in case you want to read), and also writing for The Assassin's Mark.  
> Anyways, I hope you like this chapter! I'm very excited for the next one! You'll get to meet Swift a little more in depth....  
> And of course, Solas, too. Nothing is fun without the Fade nerd.  
> Enjoy, and thanks so so much for reading!

Pheris realized - when she faced her first demon - that she was completely unprepared for what she signed up for. Panting and covered in black ichor from the monster she had just slammed both blades into, she grabbed her weapons just in time before the shade writhed back into the earth below, its claws scratching and clinging onto the dirt. She had heard stories of demons from her Keeper, even from Swift when he was in the mood for storytelling (or just trying to frighten her), but never had she imagined them to be so... demonic.

After getting yelled at by Cassandra for picking up two stray daggers (she had to defend herself, after all) and then continuing to fight more demons - who tended to fall out of the Breach in flaming green clumps - she heard the sound of swords clashing and tased the tang of magic in the air.

"Come on, they're fighting up ahead." Cassandra shouted from behind.

Pheris' legs wobbled as she climbed further up the stone stairs, "Who's fighting?" She called back over her shoulder, readying her new blades and praying that those ahead were able to handle themselves (she didn't know how much more combat she could take). She jumped off of a small ledge, questions unanswered, daggers out and eyes flashing. The tang of lyrium and the foul scent of demons was overwhelming. She saw a handful of soldiers and a rogue (who all seemed to be holding their own), but when her eyes wandered to the mage, finding demons at his back, she knew her target. 

Cassandra charged with a yell while Pheris twirled her blades and lunged towards the monsters biting at the man's heels. Her daggers sunk cleanly into its side, but that only made it angry. It thrashed and she would have been able to parry if her Mark hadn't decided to take that precise moment to throb, causing her to drop her dagger. Clumsily, she raised her remaining weapon to attempt to block the blow, waiting for the demon to rake its claws down her face, but all she felt was a cool breeze. It was almost as if a thin veil of silk had been draped over her. Pheris throwing a glance at the mage, didn't hesitate to jam her dagger into the beast's head until only the hilt was sticking out. She didn't have time to thank the mage or even check for more demons before his warm, calloused hand was gripping her wrist.

"Quick, before more come through!"

With a flash of green light and a feeling of being pulled, Pheris' Mark closed the tear into the Fade. She gasped, yanking her left hand to her chest and gazing down at it, and then to the mage. He was an elf, his features angular and strong, if not a bit somber, and his head was bald. Pheris felt almost a sense of nostalgia looking into his blue eyes.   
Something about him seemed oddly familiar, as if she was greeting an old friend. She shook her head. "How did you do that?"

He shrugged, regarding her with a smile, "I did nothing, the credit is yours."

Pheris clenched her fist around the Mark, "But how?"

Solas smiled, finding the curious tilt of her head almost endearing, if not for the circumstances, "I believe that whatever caused the Mark on your hand also led to the Breach and, subsequently, the rifts."

Pheris heard a gruff cough behind her and turned to meet the eyes of a dwarf - the rogue, judging by the impressive looking crossbow in his hands. 

He grinned, his arms crossing over his chest, "Seeker, I see you brought our little prisoner along."

Cassandra merely scoffed, rolling her eyes and strapping her shield back onto her back with a practiced hand.

Pheris squirmed as the dwarf turned his eyes to her, "I... uhm... nice crossbow?"

Varric laughed, stroking the side of the weapon's stock, "Yeah, Bianca and I have been through a lot together."

He named his crossbow Bianca?

Strapping the weapon to his back, the dwarf offered Pheris a grin, "Varric Tethras, business man, storyteller, and occasional unwelcome tagalong." He said, winking at Cassandra, who made a disgusted noise as she turned away from him.

Pheris chuckled, bowing her head in greeting, "Pheris Lavellan," She said, keeping her eyes down. She had never met a dwarf before, but his lack of a beard threw her off, as did the plush of curly hairs on his partially-exposed chest (he had to be cold). He was unlike any dwarf she had heard of; his red-blonde hair slicked back, his hazel eyes twinkling, and his face kind (not that she thought dwarves to be unkind, perhaps just a bit more rough around the edges).

Then the elf cleared his throat, leaning on his staff and causing Pheris to return her attention to him. "I am Solas, if there are to be introductions."

Varric snickered, "Pretty sure what Chuckles means is 'I kept that Mark from killing you in your sleep.'"

Pheris blinked, rubbing the hilt of her dagger, and smiled, "I... thank you! But, how?"

He grinned at her, "A story for another time, perhaps. The Breach is our priority for the time being."

***

Making it to the Breach in itself was a trial (not to mention the Chantry - more specifically, Roderick - wanting to lock her up in Val Royeaux or the creepy memories bleeding through the Fade that Pheris couldn't remember ever happening). Sealing it was another ordeal entirely. According to Solas, Pheris had to open the Breach before closing it a final time. Joy, she thought, more demons. But it was a choice between possible death or very certain death, so Pheris, of course, extended her hand once more. The green magic pulled her forward, nearly right up against the jagged stone left by the explosion, but she found that rifts were much easier to open than close. As the rift expanded, demons flooded through only to be shot down by archers. That is, until the pride demon decided to join the party. Its skin was hard as stone and practically impenetrable unless Pheris paused in slashing at its ankles (allowing it an opportunity to summon a whip made entirely of electricity and snap it at her back) to interrupt the rift and, therefore, the demon.

Luckily for her, her newfound (perhaps temporary) companions learned how she fought fairly fast. Pheris was pleased (and surprised) when they listened to her shouted suggestions from across the battlefield. By the time they had fallen into a rhythm in their fighting, Pheris saw the perfect opening to go in for the kill and found Swift's name nearly tumble out of her mouth, but instead just shortened her command to "Cover me!" before leaping onto the beast's back and stabbing its throat without bravado. Black blood splattered on her face and stained her white hair as she dropped down from its shoulders while it fell (its roar was near-deafening as it died). Thrusting her hand in the air, green-purple eyes dark with focus,the Breach sealed with a reverberating boom, and Pheris (who seemed to be making a habit out of it) blacked out.


End file.
